The drinking scene in India has changed beyond recognition in the last 10 years or so. Time was when a drink meant either a) a beer b) rum or c) IMFL, or Indian Made Foreign Liquor, which was the bureaucratic name for cheap Indian whiskies pretending to be scotch. Of course you could get real scotch from a bootlegger or a cousin from abroad, but that was for the chosen few. (And mention has to be made of country liquor though our gentle readers may not be familiar with it.)
Now of course there are single malt clubs and wine groups, and every brand is easily available in restaurants and shops. Cocktails do not mean merely Bloody Marys or Singapore Slings; you can have Sex on the Beach, a Shark’s Tooth or a Caipirinha. Or you could impress your partner with your knowledge of wines.
One needs a guide to negotiate this minefield of coloured drinks and peat whiskies from small Scottish distilleries, someone knowledgeable and worldly wise who has seen them all, and more important, drunk them all.
Enter Bhaichand Patel, retired international diplomat and bon vivant who has propped up many a bar in his time in different parts of the world. To many, Patel will appear to be a character straight out of a Wodehouse novel, the uncle who was a rake and a clubman who sowed wild oats (and barley and grapes) in his time and still continues to enjoy the good life long after many youngsters have gone to bed.
But Patel is more than just a party animal. He writes (copiously and entertainingly), entertains and has deep knowledge of a lot of things, from Hindi cinema to music to yes, liquor.
That bank of knowledge and experience is very visible in Happy Hours: The Penguin Book of Cocktails, which is a handy guide to anyone remotely interested in the subject. A handsome 300-page book full of lovely pictures and detailed recipes of all manner of drinks which anyone, novice or veteran can dip into and make himself (or guests) a wonderful concoction.
What could be better than a Seventh Heaven (gin, grapefruit juice, fresh mint leaves) for a summer day, or a Flying Scotsman (Scotch, vermouth, a bit of sugar and some dashes of Angostura bitters) on a coldish night? Some of us may grumble that Patel needlessly mixes up wines and whiskies when they could be had by themselves, but it is a book of cocktails after all.
Besides the recipes, the essays on various liquors (and the wonderful introduction to the book) add tremendous value to this volume. You might notice a few pictures of liquor brands which look suspiciously like ads sneaked in but there is no compulsion to acknowledge them. So pick up the book, get your equipment — cocktail shaker, ice-bucket — and ingredients together and mix away. Salut.
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